by Philip Freneau
IN youth, gay scenes attract our eyes,
And not suspecting their decay
Life's flow'ry fields before us rise,
Regardless of its winter day.
But vain pursuits, and joys as vain,
Convince us life is but a dream
Death is to wake to rise again
To that true life I best esteem.
So nightly on the flowing tide,
Oft have I seen a raree-show;
Ref•ected stars on either side,
And glittering moons were seen below.
But when the tide had ebb'd away,
The scene fantastic with it fled,
A bank of mud around me lay,
And sea-weed on the river's bed.
Last updated January 11, 2023